


A Thousand Paper Cranes

by Whitefox



Category: Continuum (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Season 1, Slow Build, Timey-Wimey, semi-casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whitefox/pseuds/Whitefox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiera and Alec bond over ancient cinematography, casual wear, and origami.  Life goes on, even when you think it shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Paper Cranes

**Author's Note:**

> Set vaguely pre-1.09, but with the occasional blink-and-you'll-miss-it nod to season 2. If you haven't seen it yet, you won't be spoiled. 
> 
> Written because I can't help but ship all the banter, and the lack of fic for these two (and the show in general) was starting to cause me physical pain. Of course, I never intended to come out with something this long, but hey, whatever. 
> 
> Finally, major thanks to kalis_girl for the awesome beta and for giving me the courage to post this monstrosity. ♥

* * *

 

 

**_Prologue_ **

**_(2077)_ **

 

 

_*_

_On days like today, Kiera's life is perfect.  It is a beautiful Friday afternoon, the sun is glinting off the city windows like a million glittering possibilities, and after a shortened CPS shift she feels loose-limbed and spry.  Stretching ahead of her is a long weekend; three whole days that, terrorists permitting, she will be able to spend with her loving husband and son.  She can think of nothing in this world she wants more._

_She is early to pick up Sam, but he is there waiting for her just the same.  His eyes are the same colour as the shining sky as he runs to hug her and tell her about his day.  She listens to tales of playground drama and macaroni sculptures and holds his small hand tightly in her own as they leave to collect their missing piece._

_Greg works in the largest, most elegant glass monolith of them all, and Kiera's heart swells a little with pride as the shuttle drops them off at the steps.  She and Sam rarely visit Greg at work, and the SadTech Head Office is nothing short of impressive.  Kiera smiles at her son as he looks around with wide eyes, crouching to inspect the engraved marble tiles and leaning back cartoonishly to take in the full height of the building.  Everything feels brand new through Sam's eyes._

_Sam spots Greg first, on the other side of the courtyard, and Kiera lets him go racing ahead to greet his father while she trails behind.  Greg is talking to an older man, but his shift is over and she knows he won't mind Sam intruding.  Any man who dislikes their son is not a man worth knowing.  She smiles at Sam's enthusiasm as he calls out to his father, and Greg swings him up into his arms.  As Kiera approaches, he points to the shiniest building of them all and shakes the older man's hand._

_So.  This is Alec Sadler, at last._

_She keeps her eyes on Sam as she approaches, her smile fond and proud.  She hears Greg introduce her, but she does not tear her eyes from Sam until Sadler himself speaks._

_“Kiera,” he says, voice straightforward and confident like she would expect from the richest man alive.  “It's long overdue.”  He extends a hand and she shakes it, firm and confident in her own way; she will always be a soldier.  “I'm Alec Sadler.”_

_She knows, but she suspects to say so would be rude.  “It's pleasure to meet you, sir,” she settles on instead, and Greg rewards her with a proud smile._

_“You are a CPS officer, is that right?  And with an exemplary track record, or so I hear,” Sadler smiles, switching his focus back to her husband.  “Greg certainly has ample reason to be proud of his family.”_

_“Thank you, sir,” her husband beams back, and Kiera smiles along with him.  Sam holds his hand up for a high-five, and she gives it gladly._

_“Well I'm sure you've had enough of appeasing old men like myself for one day,” Sadler grins, stepping back.  “Go, be with your family, and have fun.  But I expect to see that lovely wife of yours at the charity ball next month!”_

_Greg says something back, but Sam is babbling about getting to meet Alec Sadler and what he's going to tell all his friends, and she doesn't catch it.  Social functions are not her favourite things in the world, and she's self-aware enough to admit that most are probably the better for her absence, but if the CEO of SadTech is calling, she will come._

_In the meantime, she has three whole days to spend with her family and friends.  It will never be enough, she knows, but right now three days feel like forever._

_She couldn't wish for anything better._

*

 

**2012.**

 

“Margaret Steinberg, CEO of Wayland Enterprises,” Kiera dictated in place of a normal greeting.  She held her phone to her ear to placate Carlos and random passersby, but she and the voice inside her head had no need of such formalities.  “Get me everything you can on her social connections, business ties, anything that might reveal Liber8 sympathies or make her a target.” 

The clattering of keys reached Kiera from Alec’s end.  “Steinberg, Wayland…wait, you're not sure which?” 

“Alec,” Kiera sighed. 

“It's just, isn't that a pretty wide net?” he continued, undaunted.  “I mean, do you have any idea what you're looking for?  How can someone be a potential sympathizer _and_ a target, aren't those like opposite ends of a dichotomy?” 

“Alec, just get me what you can.  And with a minimum of procrastination and complaining, if you wouldn't mind.”  She sidestepped to avoid a collision with a preoccupied man in a suit, and edged away from the sidewalk warily. 

“Wait, a minimum?  So I'm allowed some?” 

Kiera felt a small grin forming on her face.  “Only because I recognize that you're a flawed human being who can't help himself.  But there are limits.”

“Well, I don't know,” Alec drawled.  “I mean, flawed as I am, I'm not sure I can properly motivate myself.  Maybe I'll just spend the whole day playing video games, that's much more rewarding.” 

“…Use the force, Luke.  The power is within you.” 

Alec barked a laugh.  “Oh my…oh man, did you seriously just quote _Star Wars_ at me?  How…when did you even have time to watch that?  And how was I not invited?  Okay, wait, maybe we can still salvage this.  You've obviously watched at least one of the three, but—” 

“Three?  I thought there were six.” 

“Okay, see, _this_ is why you need to watch the classics with an expert.  There are only three worthy of your time, and I will be heartbroken if you've watched them all without me.” 

Kiera made an effort to keep her amusement out of her voice.  “I would say I'm sorry, but that would be a lie.” 

“Okay, fine, whatever.  What else have you seen?  _Lord of the Rings?_ ” 

“What?” 

“Great, awesome.  Are you busy tonight?  You should come here, I have the best setup.  Much better than that crappy television I saw at your place, I can't believe you actually used that thing, it's seriously ancient.  I'll think of something to tell my mom.” 

“Tonight?”  Kiera floundered, thrown by the abrupt shift from harmless banter to solid plans.  “I, uh…” 

“Hey,” Alec pushed, “remember what I said about making friends?  That doesn't just apply to Carlos.” 

“…” 

“Kiera, are you implying by your awkward silence that we are not _friends_?” 

“Fine.  _Fine_.  Movie night it is.  _If_ you get me that data in the next two hours.” 

“Great!” he chirped gleefully.  “Do you really want to stick with _Lord of the Rings_ , because I've got lots of other—” 

“Good _bye_ , Alec.”  

Kiera hit the 'end call' button on her phone, which beeped obligingly even though there was no call to end.  Despite the fact that Alec was doubtless still listening, Kiera appreciated the concrete if symbolic end to the conversation, and especially the way she had finally trained Alec to respect it.

She made her way back to Carlos, who was lounging against the cruiser and not doing a thing to conceal his impatient curiosity.  As she approached he straightened and a wide grin spread across his face that she very much did not like the look of. 

“Hot date for tonight?” he asked, apparently with complete seriousness. 

“What?  I'm—I _was_...” she fumbled attempting to explain her marital situation and ended up with the extremely lame, “it's complicated.” 

He didn't even look phased, and honestly, Kiera couldn't blame him.  “All right.  Complicated hot date for tonight?” 

Kiera gave up.  “What are you talking about?” 

Carlos nodded at her phone, now safely pocketed.  “That phone call.  You were grinning like an idiot - which can I just say is alarming to witness - and I've seen that look enough to know what it means.  I'd also guess that not even half of that call was business, and you made plans for tonight.  Am I wrong?” 

Kiera scowled.  Alec was surely listening and he was going to get completely the wrong idea, which was part of the reason why she'd been so reluctant to agree to the movie in the first place.  But she'd told Carlos so many lies she sometimes forgot what the truth felt like and on her list of things that were acceptable to lie about, this didn't even make the top one hundred. 

“No,” she grumbled.  “You're not wrong.  But it's not a date.  We're just friends.” 

“Uh-huh,” Carlos agreed, with that same huge grin spreading across his face like a creeping epiphany.  Kiera sighed.  She didn't know what to say to convince him.  She wanted to complain that Alec was just a kid, but that would lead to places she'd like even less, like having to explain why her Section Six contact was an eighteen year old and why exactly she was going over to his house to watch movies.  And she didn't want to risk saying anything to Alec directly for fear of opening a box she'd never be able to close, though that was probably a lost cause already.  Besides, she had no idea how to convince _him_ , either. 

“Can we just get back to the station?” she said instead. 

Carlos mock-saluted, Kiera managed to restrain herself from assaulting her driver, and they were off. 

 

* 

 

Alec's information came through, as always.  Kiera had received more ribbing when she'd taken his return 'call', but luckily most of it took the form of nonverbal winks and grins, so she just turned off her HUD to hide the worst of it.  Alec would still be able to guess what was going on, of course, but there was no reason for her to hand him ammunition on a silver platter. 

With his leads, they were able to obtain a warrant to question Steinberg's husband on suspicion of possible ties to Liber8.  The Steinbergs had both been poor entrepreneurs when they married, but his business had floundered while hers had boomed, and jealousy had made him bitter.  As a sympathizer with close ties to a potential Liber8 target, he was too dangerous to leave alone.  The police might not have enough to arrest him yet, but they could definitely let him know he was being watched.  For small-timers like him, that was often good enough. 

So, as much as Kiera wished otherwise, there was no reason not to leave work on time.  She tried to slip out quietly, but Carlos must have been expecting that because he caught her anyway. 

“Enjoy your date!” he called, though thankfully not so loud that anyone else in the nearly empty office would hear, and in return she didn't quite shut the conference room door in his face.  She slipped out to the elevators without further mishap, but as soon as she was alone a breathy chuckle sounded in her head that made her shiver with foreboding. 

“Date, huh?”  Alec echoed. 

“Quiet, Alec.  You know, I have some things I need to do tonight, so-” 

“No, you don't.  I know you don't.  Come on, Kiera, you promised.” 

He sounded so disappointed, but she wouldn't give in.  She wouldn't.  “I'm just not so sure this is a good idea…” 

“Why?  Because of what Carlos said?  I was only teasing.  What does he know?  He's just twisting something innocent because it amuses him.”  Alec paused, clearly switching tracks.  “Kiera.  Don't you trust me?  When have I ever not respected your boundaries?” 

Kiera snorted, because seriously?  That's what he was going with?  “Do you really want me to answer that?  Keep in mind that I remember everything.  Perfectly.” 

“Okay, fine, _recently_.  Come on, we're friends, right?  Friends hang out.  Don't let Carlos ruin this, it'll be fun.  Completely friendly fun, I promise.” 

“Well…” 

“Search your feelings, Leia.  You know it to be true.” 

“Leia?  So I'm your sister now?” 

“What?  No way, I'd be Han.  He's much cooler than Luke.”  

“Really,” Kiera drawled.  She could feel her hesitance give way to the familiar pleasure of Alec-baiting.  “So you'd give up lightsabers, telekinesis and clairvoyance just to look scruffy and shoot things?” 

“Look scruffy and…what is wrong with you?!” 

His outrage made her smile despite herself, and fine, so maybe she understood a little of what Carlos was getting at.  “Breathe, flyboy.  I'll be there in twenty.”  

In an admirable effort to live up to his claims, Alec didn't say another word. 

 

* 

 

Kiera was not a fan of the winters of the early 21st century, which were significantly harsher and seemed to involve a lot more precipitation and miserable cold than the ones she remembered.  To her relief, this one seemed to be finally letting go for good and the days were lengthening, meaning she wasn't always driving home in the dark.  The fiery sunset that flooded the sky tonight reminded her a bit too much of airborne explosions to be entirely comfortable, but it provided an interesting backdrop for the drive to the Sadlers' farm.  When her cab rolled up the gravel drive to the house, the most dramatic streaks had faded but the sky was still lit by a dull red glow. 

The farmhouse was simple, blue and white with nary a satellite dish in sight, and very much not the place Kiera had imagined a young Alec Sadler would live - not that she'd given it much thought, mind you.  The grounds stretched out beyond the house into fields and fenced pastures, and a large barn loomed in the back.  Not just a country house then, but a real working farm.  Wonders never ceased. 

A pretty, older brunette woman stepped out onto the flower-bedecked porch before Kiera had even finished closing the cab door.  With no Alec in sight, Kiera froze.  This could only be his mother, and she had no idea what kind of cover story he had prepared. 

Luckily, the elder Sadler didn't need introductions. 

“You must be Agent Cameron,” she called as she walked forward, her entire demeanor glowing with welcome.  “I'm Ann, Alec's mother.  I had no idea Alec was helping the police, but he does get up to all sorts of things in that barn.  I'm glad to hear that he's putting his skills to such good use.” 

“Your son is very talented,” Kiera agreed, a bit bemusedly, and shook the proffered hand.  She'd been prepared for an outlandish and potentially embarrassing backstory, but Alec had apparently been sensible for once and stuck close to the truth.  “He's a great help to the force, we're lucky to have him.  Has he told you anything about…what we're working on?” 

“Oh, no,” Ann shook her head like the very idea was scandalous.  “He said it's all classified, and I completely understand.  I'm just so proud of him, that you would trust him with that information.” 

“He's very mature for his age,” Kiera admitted, starting to feel trapped in a cycle of singing Alec's praises.  She hadn't heard a word from him in hours, so at least it was possible that he wasn't listening.  “I-- _we_ rely on him a lot.  Um, if I may, where…where is he?” 

“Oh!  Of course.  He's just finishing up his chores, I think.  I can get you some tea, while you wait?  Or I suppose you could go find him.” 

Kiera smiled, and tried to make it look suitably apologetic.  She liked the woman, and was glad to see Alec had a supporter in her, but she wasn't sure how much hers and Alec's stories would align under closer scrutiny.  Besides, small talk had never been one of her skills. 

“I think I'll just see if I can find him, if that's okay.  I wouldn't mind looking around, anyway.  I've…been stuck in the city too long, I think.”  There was a horse at the far end of the closest pasture, and Kiera could feel the pull of attraction like a physical thing. 

Ann smiled warmly and, Kiera thought, genuinely.  “Of course.”  She reached into one of the many pockets in her baggy pants – no doubt much more convenient than a skin-tight suit, Kiera observed jealously - and pulled out a slightly bruised yellow apple.  “Give this to Grace, if you go say hello.  She's very friendly.” 

Kiera took the apple, touched.  “Thank you.”  

“You're welcome,” the older woman beamed back.  “Feel free to come by whenever you need to escape all that bustle.  Country air heals the soul, and our door is always open to friends.” 

“I will,” Kiera smiled, small but genuine, feeling a little overwhelmed.  “Thank you.” 

Ann nodded.  “Good to meet you, Agent Cameron.” 

“Kiera.  Call me Kiera.” 

“Kiera, then.  Good luck dealing with my son!” 

With a last smile and a wave, Ann headed back to the house.  Kiera watched after her for a minute, relishing the feeling of belonging that had been so scarce since she'd left her time and half-wishing she could just stay in this peaceful place and let Liber8 implode on their own. 

The sun had fully set now and the last of the light was dying, so Kiera took care as she picked her way over to Grace the horse.  She was a gorgeous mare, in Kiera's inexpert opinion, with a creamy brown coat that darkened to nearly black along her legs and nose, matching her dark mane and tail.  Her ears pricked up when she spotted Kiera and the apple, and she trotted over to the fence.  This close, her head was intimidatingly large.  Kiera hesitated, but a soft nicker from Grace had her offering up the apple anyway.  The horse took the fruit with impressive care and gentleness, and her lips brushed Kiera's palm as lightly as a moth's wings. 

“Would you like to ride her?” 

Kiera barely managed not to jump in surprise.  “Alec,” she sighed, turning.  “How long have you been there?” 

Alec shrugged.  “Just a minute or so.  I didn't know you liked horses.”  He was outfitted in rugged, casual clothes, knee-high rubber boots, thick gloves, and covered with a surprising amount of mud and horse hair; just one more thing no one would associate with the corporate tech genius of 2077.  Kiera decided she much preferred this more disgusting version. 

“I'd never seen a horse up close before I came here,” she admitted, turning back to watch Grace munch happily on the apple.  “They're rarer, back home.  Not enough space.” 

“Home, huh,” Alec muttered.  “Well, it's probably too late to take her out tonight, anyway.  You'll just have to come earlier next time.” 

Kiera's lips quirked at that, but Alec couldn't see it, so it was fine.  “Next time?” 

“What?  We've got a _lot_ of movies to get through. I don't think you fully appreciate the depth of your ignorance.  People don't trust people who don't get pop culture references, you know.  It's like advertising your weirdness.” 

Kiera ignored the obvious taunt in that last sentence, because she was the adult in this conversation and thus it was her responsibility to prevent their descent into schoolyard insults.  “Carlos did mention something the other day about shining a light in the sky to signal me.  It was very strange, not to mention impossible.  There's no way you'd be able to see--” 

“Okay, stop.  Just.  _Batman?_ You don't have _Batman_ in the future?  I think I'm glad I die tragically or whatever it is you won't tell me about, because clearly the future _sucks_.” 

“Bat…man?  What is that?  Some sort of mutation?” 

“Okay, no, just stop talking.  We're doing _The Dark Knight_ trilogy next, that's non-negotiable.  Actually, maybe we should do that first, it might be more up your alley.  But then, _Lord of the Rings_ does have horses, so-” 

“Alec.  You smell like manure.” 

Alec came to a screeching halt mid-ramble and blinked.  Kiera was happy to enjoy the rare speechlessness, but at her back Grace snorted, apparently tired of being ignored and seeking more apples.  When Kiera didn’t react, a large nose nudged her shoulder with more force than she’d expected.  She stumbled forward, almost colliding with Alec, who reached out at the last second to steady her.  There was a strange moment as they both froze, his hands at her waist and hers on his shoulders, and simultaneously realized they'd never been this close before.  Alec's eyes were very blue and very wide, and he had a smudge of dirt down the left side of his nose. 

And then Alec cleared his throat and stepped back, and Kiera let him go.  She looked down at the muddy tracks his gloves had left on the sides of her jacket and wrinkled her nose. 

“And now _I_ smell like manure,” she complained. 

Alec cleared his throat again and rubbed his neck, not meeting her eyes.  “Uh, yeah, sorry about that.  Look, I've gotta throw this stuff in the wash anyway, I can take your jacket too, if you…want?  It might get chilly later, but I could find a sweater or something for you that should fit.” 

“Yeah, all right,” Kiera agreed absently.  She had discovered that Grace would settle for attention if she couldn't get more snacks, and the mare's nose felt like velvet.  

“Okay, well, give me your jacket and I'll go get changed.  You can head straight into the barn if you want, just follow the increasing neatness.  The passcode for the door is 107738.”  Kiera raised an eyebrow at that, but Alec waved her off.  “I change it every week, it's fine.  What do you take me for, some amateur?  Please.” 

Kiera just shook her head, trying to hide her smile.  “You've got dirt on your nose, Mr. Sadler, sir.” 

Alec eyed her balefully and rubbed at the wrong side of his nose.  Kiera laughed, threw her jacket at his head, and headed off to the barn. 

The great Alec Sadler, indeed.  This was a _great_ idea. 

And maybe it was exactly what she needed, after all. 

 

* 

 

“The bat signal would never work.  A giant spotlight powerful enough to cast a well-defined shadow on a loose cluster of water droplets at night, and it's small enough to hide on top of a skyscraper?  Please.” 

The credits were rolling on the second movie in the Batman trilogy, which Alec had claimed was the most relevant of the three for understanding early twenty-first century culture.  Kiera personally had felt a more personal stake in the first film with its revolutionary-like villains, but she had to admit the second was well done -- for something filmed with techniques seven decades more primitive than she was used to.  The experience was much less immersive in this time, leaving a lot more room for other activities such as snacking, apparently. 

“What?” Alec said from where he was sprawled at the other end of the scruffy but surprisingly comfortable couch,  his words only partly muffled by the handful of popcorn he was shoving into his mouth. “Are you telling me future technology isn't advanced enough to make a working bat signal?” 

“With equipment that primitive, in an uncontrolled biosphere and producing visibility on such a huge scale?  No, no it isn't.  I think you're confusing my tech with magic.”  

“Hah, your tech, is it?  I think _you're_ the one that's confused.  And hey, 'uncontrolled biosphere'?  What does that mean?  _Could_ you do it, if you could control the weather?” 

Kiera squinted at the ceiling.  “Well, theoretically, with a strong enough light and manipulation of the cloud's surface to—no.  No.” 

“No?  Why no?” 

“I am not explaining theoretical scientific concepts of 2077 to you.” 

“What?  But—” 

“ _No_ , Alec.  You already know far more than you should.  Besides, the company doing that research isn't even SadTech, so it's probably proprietary or something.  And I know how big a fan you are of intellectual property rights.” 

There was a mulish pause.  “…Just so you know, I am massively unimpressed with your future.  Someone's clearly got their priorities all wrong.” 

Kiera yawned a little and snuggled into the soft black sweater Alec had found for her.  It was baggy and comfortable and smelled like horses, and she was considering never giving it back.  “I'll be sure to tell that to the CEO of SadTech the next time I see him.” 

Alec threw a popcorn kernel at her in response, but her CMR decided it was a dangerous missile and calculated its precise trajectory, allowing her to catch it neatly on her tongue.  Alec's mouth actually dropped open in awe, which Kiera found far more satisfying than was probably wise. 

“Still unimpressed?” she grinned. 

Instead of the witty rejoinder she'd expected, Alec just swallowed and looked away.  Kiera frowned, puzzled, but she didn't want to push.  

Awkward silence descended.  Cicadas buzzed outside, a sound that still put Kiera slightly on edge; Alec had explained they were harmless, but it would take Kiera more than one night to get used to the sounds of untamed nature.  On his side of the couch, Alec shifted, his sock-clad feet nudging hers. 

“Did you ever meet me?” he asked, quiet and subdued.  “In the future, I mean.” 

Kiera was willing to let him change the subject, but she didn't like the sound of this one.  “Alec...” 

“I know you don't want to tell me what I'll do, why I'm so famous,” Alec hurried to explain.  “That's fine, that's not what I meant.  I just...was I happy?  Was I a good person?  Did you know me at all?” 

He still wouldn't look at her, which was probably for the best, since Kiera doubted she was hiding her emotions very well right now. 

“Oh, Alec.  I really don't know.  I only spoke to you—him, once.” 

“Once is better than nothing,” Alec said with a quick flick of eyes her way.  “What did...what did you guys talk about?” 

“Family, mostly,” Kiera admitted, a bit surprised to recall.  The memory felt strangely new, like it had happened just days ago instead of over a year.  “My husband was a project leader for SadTech, so he knew you-- _him_ better, but we never really discussed work.” 

“That must've been weird,” Alec muttered, soft enough that he might not have meant her to hear.  He didn't elaborate, so Kiera let it go. 

“He seemed...nice,” she tried, aware of how pathetic a description that was even as she defaulted to it.  “Old.  You don't age very well,” she teased, but Alec only rolled his eyes at the screen.  “And sad,” she remembered suddenly.  “I think he missed his wife.  They'd been married a long time.” 

Alec had gone very still.  “She died?” 

Kiera nodded.  “Yes, a few years back.  I guess after being with someone that long, you never really re-adjust to being alone.” 

“So...they were happy?” 

Kiera almost repeated that she just didn't know, but something in the memory of the older Sadler's eyes stopped her.  “...I think so.  He really missed her.” 

“You said you only met him once.  He just told you all of this?” 

“No,” Kiera admitted, hesitating.  It did seem a little weird, now that she thought about it.  “I just...knew.  Something in the way he looked at me, just seemed...I don't know, wistful?” 

“And you never met her?  His wife?” 

“No.  And before you ask, I don't know her name either, and I wouldn't tell you even if I did.  I'm not going to be responsible for you stalking some poor girl because she has the same name as your possible future wife.” 

“Too late,” Alec murmured, again so quiet that Kiera suspected he was talking to himself.  “So she died first.  And they were happy.  I can't have been too awful, if she was happy.”  A tiny, private smile crept onto his face.  “I can live with that.” 

Kiera frowned.  What was he-- 

“So!” Alec chirped suddenly, vaulting off the couch and disrupting her thought.  “Ready for the finale?  We've got one more movie to go!” 

Kiera checked the time and glared.  “Alec, it's past one in the morning.  I have _work_ tomorrow.” 

Alec just scoffed.  “Please, you don't even really work there, it's not like they can fire you for being late - or even decide you _are_ late, for that matter.  What's the good of being a fake spook if you can never even sleep in?” 

Kiera judged it safest not to engage.  “We'll have to finish some other night.” 

Alec gave her a long, assessing look and then rolled his eyes, apparently giving it up as hopeless.  “Fine.  But I'm holding you to that.”  He turned away to start collecting the various snack detritus.  “You want a ride back?” 

“A cab is fine.” 

“I can drive you, it's no big deal,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.  “I know you're not exactly rolling in money, and I won't be sleeping for hours anyway.” 

Cabs weren't cheap, it was true.  But...  “I wouldn't want to put you out.  It's a long way to drive for nothing.” 

“You're not nothing,” was Alec's unassailable rebuttal.  “Come on.  I'll stash these in the kitchen and grab your jacket, and then we'll go.” 

Kiera just sighed and followed.  They were both learning to pick their battles.  

 

* 

 

Over the next few weeks they steadily worked their way through what Alec deemed the 'essentials'.  The films ranged from good for their age, to strange but memorable, to so confusing that even with Alec's expert commentary Kiera felt lost.  Alec assured her it was all worth it, and she didn't try to dismiss its relevance with the lie that she would be going home soon.  Increasingly, she found herself associating different things with 'home'; not just early mornings of SoyMoo and coffee with Sam or relaxed nights in with Greg, but also coffee at the station with Carlos, the smell of hay and the sound of cicadas on peaceful country nights, golden curls and a friendly voice in her head.  Her life in 2077 felt hazier and more fantastical with every passing day, and some mornings she woke up fearing it had all been a dream.  It was getting harder to convince herself that her stay in 2012 was just temporary, and sometimes that scared her, and sometimes she felt so guilty she wanted to vomit, and sometimes...sometimes, she felt glad. 

Carlos seemed to appreciate her attempt to catch up with pop culture, at least.  The first time she compared Vancouver to a budding Gotham City his face lit up like Christmas had come early and Santa had left him something exotic under the tree that might bite.  Alec insisted it was the best expression the detective had ever made, but to Kiera it was a wake-up call about how disconnected she was from this time, and how that would have to change. 

Betty, too, actually seemed to be warming up to her now, even going so far as to suggest other movies to see, books to read, websites to visit.  They'd gotten off on the wrong foot from the beginning, but Kiera had never noticed, or had perhaps just never taken the time to notice, how much of that was due to Betty's feeling threatened and devalued.  Kiera had just assumed the other woman was jealous or didn't like her for whatever unknowable, unsalvageable reason, but now she saw the potential for another friend to add to her burgeoning collection of two.  By admitting her ignorance as a failing rather than a point of pride, she realized she was also admitting that Betty's interests had value and inviting her to share them.  Carlos still remained a sore point between them, but Kiera knew from experience that there was no sure way to convince the hacker she wasn't interested.  Only time could do that; time, and perhaps some subtle hints to the detective. 

And through it all, Liber8 stubbornly refused to provide a distraction.  More than once Kiera found herself wishing for a good bomb threat or kidnapping, just to reaffirm her place in the world as a competent Protector - past or future - but the terrorist cell refused to grant her even this simple wish.  A truck transporting various food and kitchen supplies to a department store mysteriously lost half of its cargo, but that was the only gang-typical activity reported and there was no way to trace it to Liber8.  

In the lull, Kiera had no choice but to act like a real partner, and tag along with Carlos to his various early-twenty-first century crime scenes.  She tried to restrain herself and let him do all the heavy lifting, but Alec's taunting in her head made that difficult sometimes.  Carlos, too, was too suspicious for his own good, but most of the time he seemed willing to let her slacking slide as long as no one's life was on the line. 

Most recently they'd been assigned to investigate the suspicious suicide of a young business student, James Rush, and this morning was dedicated to going through his personal correspondence and coursework in search of any possible motive for murder.  Though Carlos denied it, Kiera had the uncomfortable suspicion that it was her fault the case was being treated like a homicide at all.  From her first sight of the crime scene, Kiera's CMR had informed her that, based on the student's weight and the angle of the shower rod, it was technically impossible for him to have committed suicide by hanging.  She hadn't said anything, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd given some sign that had tipped Carlos off.  She was contributing as little as possible to the ensuing research effort in an effort to minimize the damage to the timeline, but it was hard to resist when normal people worked _so slowly_. 

“Anything stand out in the class lists?” Carlos asked from the other side of the table, sounding listless and in need of more caffeine.  Kiera could sympathize. 

“No,” she said, and it was even true.  What she didn't mention was how each list only took a fraction of a second to scan, and thus she was spending the majority of her time staring at nothing and trying to calculate how advanced SadTech was going to be in ten years' time, what with all the insight she was giving its future CEO.  The initial results were not promising.  Maybe she could get Alec to sign some sort of non-disclosure agreement?  “I have a partial list of students in two or more of his classes, but there's nothing consistent, and no repeat professors.” 

Carlos eyed her suspiciously and held out a hand for the list.  She passed it over with her best innocent look, but he seemed too paranoid and grumpy to fall for it.  Someone seriously needed to get this man another coffee. 

“Kiera?” said a familiar and, at this moment, extremely welcome voice.  “Hey, look, I can tell you're super busy and all so I'll make this quick--” 

“Alec,” she growled, hopefully low enough that Carlos didn't hear, and the voice in her head fell silent long enough for her to fake a phone call.  “Please tell me you've found someone I can shoot.” 

“Uh, no?  That's a bit violent for a cop, isn't it?  I thought you guys were supposed to be peacekeepers, all 'guns as a last resort' and such.” 

“Ex-military, here.” 

Alec whistled.  “You know, that explains _so_ much.  I don't know, though, you and Carlos seem plenty busy, looks like you've got a lot of papers to go through there.  I wouldn't want to interrupt you or, oh, _slow you down_.” 

“Alec,” she growled again, magnitudes more threatening now that she wouldn't look crazy for talking to herself.  “I have been trying not to solve this case for _three hours_ , so if you just 'called' to taunt me, so help me--” 

“Okay, okay!  Jeeze.  Look, it's nothing future-cop related, or even normal-cop related actually, so don't get your hopes up.  Nothing serious, I just...I'm gonna be in town today, got some errands to run, so I thought maybe we could, uh, meet up?  For lunch, or coffee, or whatever.  I have something I want to run by you.  If you have time.  It's not that important though, like I said, so.  If you have time.  Or whatever.” 

Kiera's stomach swooped.  She didn't like the risk of a public meeting, on the off chance Liber8 was watching her and might take an interest in her friend, but the slight tremor in Alec's voice warned her not to dismiss this. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.  I can get away.  There's a nice cafe a couple blocks south of here.” 

Alec's relief was an audible sigh across the coms.  “Sure, yeah, I know the place.  See you in...an hour?  Or—” 

“Sure,” Kiera breathed.  “See you in an hour.” 

Alec didn't say anything more, probably seeing safety in silence, so Kiera lowered her phone and stared at the dark screen for a long moment.  There was a reason - a _good_ reason - why she didn't want Alec too involved in her life, beyond the invaluable technical aid he already provided.  But he was her friend, her best friend, and she doubted she would have survived at all without him.  He knew the risks, and even meeting up at the barn was dangerous, in its own way.  

What would come would come, and they'd face it together when it did. 

“Kiera?  ...Earth to Kiera!” 

Kiera blinked up from her phone into Betty's expectant face.  “What?” 

Betty cocked her head, sparrow-like.  “Oh, just passing by, saw you spacing out, the usual.  Something wrong?” 

“Uh, no, nothing's...” Kiera trailed off, realizing the potential of this awkward encounter to get her out of an even more awkward conversation with Carlos.  “Look, I've got to go meet... a friend, could you--?” 

“Tell Carlos you're abandoning him in the middle of a case again?  Uh-uh, no way, do your own dirty work—wait.”  Betty paused, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.  Kiera shrank back instinctively, feeling hunted, but there was nowhere to hide.  “Ooh, _that_ sort of friend.  I _see._ ” 

Kiera blinked.  “What--” 

“Go on,” Betty waved her off.  “I'll make your excuses, don't worry about it.  Go enjoy lunch with your _friend_.”  And with an exaggerated wink and a wide smile Betty was off, presumably to break the news to Carlos with far more glee than Kiera felt was appropriate. 

Kiera just stared after her.  The people in this station seemed determined to misunderstand her relationship with Alec and at this point all Kiera could really hope for was that they'd never actually meet him.  The potential there for really awkward misunderstandings was staggering, the only certainty being that Alec would enjoy the situation far too much. 

Kiera shuddered and grabbed her coat.  After this morning, she thought she deserved an extra-long lunch break. 

 

* 

 

The cafe was only a fifteen minute walk from the station, so Kiera took a roundabout, scenic route.  The open countryside was her new love but Kiera would always be a city girl at heart, and the Vancouver of 2012 had its own rustic charm.  Buried amid the timeless city smells of asphalt and garbage and massed humanity glimmered the clean tang of fresh cut grass on the oceanfront lawns and the salty-sweet breeze blowing in from over the water.  The dam-free water stretched on into the endless sky, creating a sense of freedom and infinite possibilities that had never been present in the world where she grew up.  Her time had its own conveniences and a certain cultural maturity that she did miss, but she was wondering more and more whether the trade-off might be something she could live with.  

Today was 2012, Kiera Cameron would not be born for another four decades, and the world was still green. 

By the time she finally wandered back to the cafe she was actually slightly late and Alec was already settled in.  He'd ordered something frothy, white, and almost certainly caffeinated, though he was bouncing in his seat enough to make the extra stimulant seem redundant.  He hadn't noticed her come in and when she poked him in the shoulder as she walked past he nearly leapt out of his seat. 

“Jeeze!  Warn a guy,” he grumbled as he settled back down, using a napkin to carefully mop around the edges of his mug where his drink had spilled over.  The froth seemed to be the main casualty, and the napkins weren't doing a very good job of absorbing it. 

Kiera wanted to laugh, but she wasn't sure he'd take it very well.  “Everything okay, Alec?” 

She must not have managed to keep the amusement out of her voice entirely, because Alec glared back. 

“Yeah, ha-ha, laugh it up.  You haven't been up all night repairing firewalls and sweeping for trojans after a surprise hack.” 

Kiera blinked, thrown completely off course.  “Someone got into your system?” 

“No, of course not,” he scoffed, having the nerve to sound offended after implying just that.  “But someone tried.  Someone good.  No one's gotten that close to breaking in since I was twelve and the dog got into my room.” 

Kiera made a mental note to ask later what had happened with the dog.  “You think it was Liber8?” 

“Could be,” Alec agreed.  “Someone tried to hack me while they were hijacking you, but I cut them off when I shut down your CMR.  It's possible they tracked me down again.  They got a good enough look at my setup.” 

“So they'll try again,” Kiera concluded, her heart sinking.  If Alec was in danger... 

“I doubt it,” Alec said, with a cocky and slightly manic-looking grin.  “I beat them down good.  And then, you know, spent about half the night varying my DNS servers, rerouting through a whole new set of proxies, and upgrading my firewalls to anticipate their tricks.  Even if they can find me again, they'll have to go back and get another ten years of advanced knowledge to surprise me.”  He took a huge gulp of froth and added, “It was a teachable moment, really.” 

Kiera huffed a laugh and managed a smile as her insides started to settle down.  This was _Alec Sadler_ ; of course he couldn't be defeated in his own element, hackers from the future or no.  “I'm glad you're taking this so well.”  

“You know me.  Always ready to learn from the masters.” 

“I do know you,” Kiera agreed with a smile, startling Alec into silence with her sincerity.  She took advantage of the lull to flag down a waitress and order a sandwich; her stomach was reminding her she hadn't eaten yet today and she wasn't sure when she'd get another opportunity.  As the waitress left with her order, a thought occurred to her.  “If you weren't worried about security, why did you want to meet?” 

“Oh, well, convenience, like I said,” Alec rambled.  “And.  I have a message, or—a request, I guess, to pass on.” 

Kiera didn't like the sound of that.  “From who?” 

“My mother,” Alec said. 

Kiera rolled her eyes at the build-up and let herself relax. 

“She, uh, wants you to come to dinner tonight.  It's not as formal as that sounds,” he rushed to explain as her eyebrows rose, “it's more of a potluck type deal — but you don't have to bring anything!  There'll be lots of other people there, friends and family we hardly ever see so you won't stand out.  My mom's always on me to bring someone, but people my age are idiots, which I don’t like to encourage.  And now she knows I have you — or, I mean, she knows you, so she wants you to come.  It's lame, I know, like something out of the 1800s, but there'll be free food and...and good company.  I hope.” 

Kiera realized now that she had relaxed far too soon.  She didn't know what to say - she didn't even know what she _wanted_ to say.  Alec was trying to play it down, but she knew this could be a turning point, for both of them.  So far she'd stayed on the fringes of society in this time, only recently making the smallest attempts to connect with the people she interacted with on a daily basis.  Alec was largely to blame even for that small amount of progress.  But this, this meant interacting with a wider social group, admitting she had ties to people in this time and acknowledging them for the world to see.  It would be the first step towards building a real life for herself in 2012, but to do that she had to accept the reality that she would likely never see Greg or Sam again.  She had to let her old family go before opening the door to a new one. 

The prospect brought tears to her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.  Across from her, Alec made an abortive motion, perhaps meaning to grab her hand but thinking better of it at the last second. 

“Sorry, I'm sorry, forget it, I shouldn't have asked,” he babbled.  “It's way too soon, of course you don't want to hang out with my family, I'm such an idiot.” 

Kiera watched through blurry eyes as he seemed to withdraw into himself and become the awkward, misfit kid he had no doubt been for most of his life: too smart, too driven, too mature for anyone his own age, but too young and creative for adults to take seriously, and living in a world they couldn't understand.  Kiera was no genius, but even by 2077 standards she was smart and she was familiar with the general trend.  She realized that not only had she never seen this Alec before, but that he had understood her reaction without her saying a word; understood like no one else could, and then immediately accepted the blame for something that was no one's problem but her own.  For all of that, and for _Star Wars_ quotesand fake identities and for being the voice in the dark when she was at her lowest, assuring her she wasn't alone; for everything he'd done since she got here that she didn't have the slightest chance of ever paying him back for, and for everything she knew he was going to do; for all of that, she thought she might owe him enough to manage this. 

“It's okay, Alec,” she said, soft and unsteady but still loud enough, she knew.  She reached across the table to calm his hand where he was fiddling with his napkin.  At the touch he went very still, and she smiled.  “Really.” 

Truth was, the choice had never been hers to make. 

Alec's eyes were very wide and he still seemed a bit frozen.  “Does that mean--” 

“Hey Kiera, is this guy bothering you?” 

Kiera snatched her hand back as fast as a cobra strike and glared up into a face that was far more familiar than she'd like. 

“Kellogg,” she growled.  “ _You're_ bothering me.  This is a private conversation.” 

“Oh?”  Kellogg slid into the chair beside her, shamelessly sliding it closer to crowd her between him and the wall, and turned his full attention across the table to Alec.  “And who's this?  Grandfather, perhaps?” 

She and Alec both winced at that and Kellogg's eyebrows rose.  

This situation was spiralling dangerously out of control. 

“What do you _want,_ Kellogg?” Kiera demanded in her most exasperated tone, trying to redirect him without much hope.  To her mixed relief and annoyance, he did actually turn to face her, making it all the more obvious just how uncomfortably close he was. 

“Kiera, you wound me,” he complained, hand on heart.  “After all the help I've given you, such suspicion!  Can't a man just desire the pleasure of a beautiful woman's company?” 

Kiera gritted her teeth and let it slide.  It was never safe to assume anything about Kellogg, and especially dangerous to assume the words coming out of his mouth had anything to do with what he was actually saying.  “If you want to talk, fine.  But now's not the time.” 

“But now is so convenient -- you're here, I'm here.  Mystery kid's here,” Kellogg smiled, still turned her way but no longer watching her.  “What's the problem?  Surely the kid is trustworthy?” 

Kiera took a deep breath as subtly as she could.  So Kellogg wanted to know about Alec.  That was fine.  That was predictable.  He was shooting blind -- if he had any idea who Alec really was, he'd have much better questions to ask. 

“I'm sorry, Matthew, it's been fun, really,” she said with her best sparkling socialite smile -- which, admittedly, was never her best weapon, but she had to make do with the tools she had.  “We must do this again sometime.  But my lunch hour is up, so if you would kindly move...?” 

Kellogg smiled at her, but he didn't move.  His eyes slid over to Alec, and whatever he saw there caused his smile to grow.  Kiera's own smile died and she narrowed her eyes as he lifted a hand to her face.  He knew better than to try to touch her, what was...? 

“Hey!” erupted the other side of the table.  “Keep your hands to yourself!  She asked you to move!” 

Kiera's eyes flickered to Alec -- now standing with both hands flat on the table and looking ready to leapfrog over it to attack -- and back to Kellogg, whose beaming smile told her all she needed to know.  She growled and of course now he backed away willingly, all innocence and smiles, hands raised harmlessly. 

“Well, well,” he said, eyeing both of them with equal interest now.  “Isn't that interesting.” 

“Let's get out of here, Kiera,” growled Alec and Kiera let him pull her along as he stormed out of the cafe.  The damage was done; the best thing they could do now was get away from Kellogg as fast as possible, and it hardly mattered now how that was accomplished.  Once they were out on the street and out of sight, though, Kiera dug in her heels.  

“What was that, Alec?” 

Alec seemed to deflate at the question, to the extent that Kiera actually felt a little bad for asking it.  “I...I don't know,” he said.  And then, more defensively, “He was trying to provoke me.” 

“He was,” Kiera agreed.  “And you let him.”  She tried to be gentle about the accusation, but it was true and he needed to hear it; she knew he was mature enough to resist rising to the bait like that.  

“I know.  I'm sorry.  I just -- he's always such a creep.” 

“Yes, but he's a smart creep,” Kiera said, and started walking again.  Alec trailed along at her side like a guilty puppy.  “Just because he's not a tech genius, you shouldn't underestimate him.” 

“I do realize there are other sorts of intelligence,” Alec scoffed.  Kiera just raised an eyebrow, and he rushed to add, “Which I will try to keep in mind.  From now on.” 

“Be sure that you do,” Kiera agreed, and she allowed a tiny amused smile to slip out.  Alec grinned back, getting the message loud and clear that he was off the hook.  For now. 

“So,” he started, “did you get the sense he was way too interested in me?  Because I--” 

“He may suspect who you are.”  If he didn't already, he would soon; Kellogg might not be a genius but he was smart enough to find his way around archaic technology.  Alec Sadler was first on a very short list of teenagers who might be worthwhile to associate with in 2012.  

It was Alec's turn to raise his eyebrows.  “Does _everyone_ in the future know me?  No, wait, don't answer that, I--”  Alec's rambling was interrupted as he tried to turn a corner and Kiera tugged his arm to keep him going in the right direction.  “Um.  Okay then.  I guess shopping's out.  Where are we going?” 

“Back to the station.  I assume that’s your truck down there?” 

Alec blinked.  “Uh, yeah.  But.  Carlos.  Carlos is at the station.  What happened to the no-contacting-Carlos rule?” 

“If Kellogg is interested in you, it means Liber8 might be interested in you.”  Or it might just mean that Kellogg was interested and Liber8 was none the wiser, but with last night’s hacking attempt Kiera wasn't taking any chances.  “You might be in _danger_ , Alec.  That's more important.” 

Alec must have heard the steel in her voice because he just swallowed and nodded, though he still looked a little awed.  Kiera wasn't sure whether this was because she was putting his safety first so clearly, or because he couldn't believe he would finally get to meet Carlos.  Putting the two of them in the same room was definitely not her best idea ever, but it was necessary.    She could only hope her secrets would survive it. 

“So what's the plan, then?” Alec said, because he got over his awe just as quickly as he did everything else.  “Am I supposed to follow you around for the rest of...how long, exactly?” 

“As long as it takes,” Kiera said grimly, and relished the look of horror that spread across her best friend's face.  “Relax, Robin, it should just be for today.  I'll get you home and make sure we're not followed, and we've got that dinner thing, right?  Then tomorrow I'll go have a... _chat_ with Kellogg.  He shouldn't be able to do much damage before then.” 

Alec gaped.  “There are so many things, I don't even... _Robin?_ Did you seriously just cast yourself as Bat-woman and me as your _sidekick?_ ” 

Kiera kept her eyes determinedly forward.  “I think it's accurate, don't you?  I'm the obvious action hero with all the cool gadgets, and you've got to admit, you're not exactly flying-from-rooftops material.” 

“Okay, no, but—there are other skills!  Other, valuable, no-combat-required skills!  We're...we're _partners._ No one's anyone's sidekick.” 

Kiera finally let a smile slip out.  “All right.  I can live with that.” 

“Good,” Alec grumbled, and then blinked as if the rest of her explanation had just registered.  “Wait, did you agree to come to dinner?  Seriously?” 

Kiera swallowed down her nervous misgivings and tried on a smile; she knew Alec would understand if she didn’t quite manage it.  “I'd be a fool to pass up a home-cooked farm meal in 2012.  I can't even imagine.” 

“Yeah, mom makes a mean shepherd's pie,” Alec grinned, but Kiera could see the hesitation in it.  “Seriously, though.  I know this is a big deal for you.  You don't have to come, if you don't want to.  No pressure.” 

“I know,” Kiera said, and felt her smile melt into something more genuine.  She stopped and turned to face him: her very young, very smart, very good friend.  “I want to.” 

“Okay,” Alec said.  “Okay, that's...that's good.  Good.”  He was smiling, but he seemed a little stuck.  They had reached their destination, so Kiera slipped around to the passenger's side of Alec's truck to break the staring contest. 

“You're driving,” she called. 

She could practically hear Alec roll his eyes.  “Of course I am.” 

 

*

 

“James Rush did not commit suicide,” Kiera announced as soon as they hit the precinct.

She’d been thinking about how to help with the case on their way over, between bites of a satisfyingly greasy fast-food burger that had served as an unhealthy replacement for the sandwich that Kellogg had deprived her of.  Her police work was as important to her life as her social circle, both in 2077 and now, and if she was going to start tentative roots in one, she couldn’t ignore the other.  She had to look at the big picture.  If she was any good at her job then Liber8 wouldn’t be a problem forever, and after they were caught she would still need a paycheck.  Her job gave her purpose in everyday life beyond the constant search for a way home, and if she wanted to keep it then she had to demonstrate her usefulness in other areas.  She still feared changing the future, but she realized too that she changed it simply by existing.  Maybe by working with police in good faith, she could at least ensure more of those changes were for the better. 

“Ye-es, I was under the impression we’d already established that,” Carlos drawled.  “But thanks for the support, _partner_.” 

Kiera didn’t miss the sarcasm there, but she didn’t want to encourage Carlos by acknowledging it, so she just continued on her beeline to the class lists.  

“Judging by his weight and the height of the shower rod, suicide by hanging is impossible or at least highly improbable,” she explained absently.  “Have forensics do a full report to be sure.” 

“Uh, that’s great, but why are you just telling me this now?” 

“Sometimes you need a break to clear your head, get some new insights.  You should try it sometime.” 

Carlos gave her a flat, unimpressed look.  “Oh, that’s rich.  Why don’t—sorry, excuse me, who are you?” 

Kiera leaned around Carlos to see Alec, dawdling by Betty’s empty office.  She was surprised he’d gone undetected this long, honestly; both his age and his customary patchy jeans and oversized jacket made him stick out like a mountain pony in a field of thoroughbreds.  At Carlos’s hail he finally dragged himself away from the shiny computers and headed their way. 

“Alec Sadler,” he greeted Carlos, hand outstretched.  Carlos took it reluctantly, like he suspected he might catch something but couldn’t quite smother his manners enough to refuse.  With Carlos hooked, Alec leaned forward to deliver the punch line in a low voice.  “Section Six.” 

Kiera had to grin at the shock on the detective’s face.  “Alec, this is Detective Carlos Fonnegra,” she said, because someone had to and it was clear that Detective Fonnegra was unavailable.  Alec finished the one-sided shake with relish and disentangled himself to join her.  

“What are we looking for?” he asked, trying to read the documents over her shoulder for all the good it would do him.  Separated from his computers, Alec Sadler was as outclassed by her CMR as any other mere mortal. 

“There was a name that popped up in a number of classes...I didn’t think it was relevant at first, because the professors were different, but now...here.”  Kiera waved the pages at Alec, who snatched them out of the air with a grin.  “Think you can manage a background check on this professor, crippled as you are?” 

“Please,” Alec scoffed, sliding into the seat at her right and popping open his laptop.  “I could take over the world with this notebook.” 

Kiera had to laugh at that, because it was either that or cry.  He meant it as a joke, she knew, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.  

“ _He’s_ Section Six?” Carlos hissed on her left, finally recovered enough to demand answers.  “He’s just a kid!” 

“A kid who can hear you,” Alec pointed out without pausing his search, “and who is actually a legal adult with an IQ higher than your puny mind can comprehend.” 

Carlos didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so Kiera took back the reins.  “His age is why no paper trail exists for him, even inside Section Six,” she lied.  “He’s an unofficial consultant; paid, but off the books.  He’s been my main contact for my work with Liber8 and we now have reason to believe he might be on their radar.  As a precaution he’ll be shadowing me for the rest of the day, until other arrangements can be made.” 

“O...kay.  That explains almost everything.” 

The tone of that sentence was all wrong.  “What, Carlos?” 

“Well, Betty said—” 

“Betty was misinformed,” Kiera cut in smoothly.  Carlos still didn’t seem convinced, if his silence and sideways glance at Alec were any indication, but he moved on anyways like the good sport he was.  This, Kiera now knew, was the kind of audience every pathological liar dreamed of. 

“So...Section Six is interested in suspicious suicides now?” 

“Section Six is bored,” Alec corrected.  “Here we are.  I think you’re on to something, Kiera; Professor L. Ross got married over the summer. She’s now L. Henderson, and in the last class she taught under her maiden name charges of plagiarism were filed against one of her students.” 

“Which student?” 

“Christopher Fallows.  Is that who—” 

“Yes, he shared two classes with the victim, both taught by this professor.  Can you find anything else about those plagiarism charges?” 

“Already on it.  Says here he tried to pin another student for the cheating, but the charges didn’t stick.  And get this.  The other student’s name?” 

“James Rush,” Kiera grinned. 

“That was my line,” Alec complained, but he was grinning too. 

“I can tell you two have this covered, but I did just spend hours going over Rush's correspondence,” Carlos interrupted, finally settling into a seat across from them.  Kiera had to give him points for seeming mostly amused rather than annoyed at the takeover; truly, Carlos was a paragon of a well-adjusted human being that she would do well to emulate.  “Unless you prefer to do it the hard way?” 

“I’m sorry, Carlos,” she said with what she hoped was a suitably guilty look.  “What did you find?” 

“The plagiarism, for one,” Carlos said, with much less smugness than Kiera felt he was allowed.  “Rush and Fallows exchanged a fair amount of correspondence about it, mostly one-sided - Rush didn’t seem to enjoy repeating the tale of his innocence to such an unappreciative audience.  The interesting part is that Fallows accused Rush of cheating _twice_ \- not only publicly in Ross’s class, but privately in Henderson’s.” 

Kiera hummed with interest.  “Yet he never bothered to make the second accusation public.  Smells like motive to me.” 

“Especially when you look at Fallows’ academic status,” Alec added.  “He managed to avoid expulsion for the first infraction, but he was on probation; even suspicion of a second would get him kicked out without a backwards glance.  They wouldn’t even listen to his side of the story, and good luck getting into another school with plagiarism on your record.” 

“Then I say we pay a visit to Mr. Fallows,” Carlos said.  He got up and shrugged into his own coat, but when he went to hand Kiera her jacket and sweater, she waved him off.  

“You’ll have to do the legwork on this one, Carlos,” she explained.  “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk making Alec a target.” 

Carlos appeared to consider this for a moment, and then shrugged.  “Sure.  Just do me a favour - let me have the credit for this one, all right?  Dillon thinks I let you do all the work.” 

Kiera grinned, relieved at this small display of selfishness.  “You got it.” 

“Is that my sweater?” Alec blurted, because his timing was perfect as ever and his impulse control negligible.  Carlos paused with a strange look on his face that Kiera couldn’t quite make sense of but didn’t trust; still, he seemed to think better of commenting.  Instead he just shook his head and walked away, off to question his witness like the good cop he was. 

“...Oops?” Alec tried when Kiera glared at him.  “Seriously though, it is, right?  I knew I hadn’t misplaced it!” 

“It...might be,” she hedged, aware that lying was pointless but unwilling to admit that she'd stolen it on purpose.  It was warm, and Kiera, born in a globally warmed world, was easily chilled.  And...it smelled of horses and electronics and the closest thing to home she had here. Sometimes, when she wasn’t sure what she was doing or she had to lie Carlos one too many times in a single day or she just missed Sam a bit more than she could hide behind the brave soldier facade...sometimes, having that warmth against her skin like a touchstone kept her sane.  

“I like it,” she said.  “It’s warm.” 

“Yeah, I _know._ It’s mine.”  

“Are you sure?  I don’t see your name on it.” 

“Really?  We’re gonna play that game?  What’s next, ‘I know you are, but what am I’?” 

“What?” 

Alec dropped his head into his hands.  “Ugh, never mind.  Fine, keep it, whatever.  You’re _welcome_.” 

Kiera grinned and pointedly did not say _thank you_.  

They spent the next few minutes in silence, Kiera sifting through the case files while Alec fiddled with one of the class lists.  She soon tired of reviewing potentially irrelevant material, and instead decided to put Alec to work on some old cold cases for the department while they both had time to kill.  It was the work of minutes to locate the most recent boxes in storage, but on the way back her load obscured her view, which is why she didn’t see the missile headed straight for her head. 

It impacted her temple with a slight sting, but instead of being annoyed, Kiera was fascinated.  She set down the box in favour of the small winged object, which upon closer inspection appeared to be made out of paper - more precisely, the class list for L. Henderson. 

“What is this?” she asked its creator, who was still slumped in his chair at the conference table looking annoyed, no doubt displeased that his missile hadn’t had the intended effect. 

“You don’t have paper planes in the future?” 

“We don’t have _paper_ in the future,” Kiera said.  The little plane was quite detailed; it even had a tiny tail and curved wingtips.  “You made this?  Just now?” 

“You’ve really never seen a paper plane before?” he pressed.  Kiera shook her head, and the last traces of Alec’s admittedly weak irritation faded away.  “You poor thing.  Come here, I’ll show you, it’s really simple.  Mine was an advanced design, but we can start with something more basic...” 

They never did get to the cold cases. 

 

* 

 

By the time Carlos returned, the sun was low on the horizon, all non-essential papers related to the Rush case had been transformed into tiny folded objects and animals with varying degrees of success, and Kiera was ready to leave.  Carlos had kept them up to date with the progress of the investigation on his end, which mostly involved interviewing Fallows’ roommates and friends since Fallows himself was nowhere to be found.  Kiera had put an APB out on the missing student and alerted all his professors, but there wasn’t much more to do until he turned up.  Assuming he didn’t want to fail his classes, that should be soon. 

“The family hasn’t seen him in a—what happened here?” 

Kiera blinked up at her partner with her best innocent expression. She knew without looking that Alec was doing the same beside her. 

“Origami,” Alec said.  “It’s a respected form of art in many cultures.  It requires precision and concentration, and enhances many types of mental abstraction.” 

“Yeah?”  Carlos picked up the nearest figure, a lopsided shape that had been Kiera’s first attempt at a horse, and regarded it dubiously.  “It looks like someone needs a bit more practice.” 

“What did the family say?” Kiera tried to redirect, and it even worked: Carlos put down the failed horse and took a seat. 

“They haven’t seen him in over a week.  On the plus side, he still has no alibi.” 

“So all you can do now is wait,” Alec concluded.  “Does that mean we can go?” 

Carlos smirked.  “What’s the matter, Section Six?  Real police work too boring for you?” 

Alec grinned back.  “Um, a little, yeah.  How do you guys stand this all day?” 

“With age comes wisdom, little man.  You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

Kiera rolled her eyes.  “All right, enough.  Alec, we’re going.  Carlos, I’ll see you on Monday if nothing turns up.” 

“Take care of yourself, Kiera.  And the kid.” 

“Legal adult!” Alec protested. 

Kiera grabbed his arm and dragged him into the elevator.  The doors closed with a hiss, and Kiera twitched with nerves as her thoughts turned to her plans for the night. 

“Do I need to...change, or anything?” she prodded.  “How formal is this thing?” 

“As informal as it gets,” Alec assured her.  “Don’t worry about it.  Just wear something comfortable.” 

Kiera zipped up her sweater in response. Alec’s soft answering smile showed he understood. 

On Kiera’s directions Alec took a very indirect route home, leaving the city on nearly the opposite side and then looping around north to where they needed to go.  The lonely country roads gave them plenty of opportunity to ensure they weren’t being followed and an initial sweep of the truck with her CMR had assured Kiera that it wasn’t bugged.  It was seeming more and more likely that Kellogg’s appearance and the hacking attempt were completely unrelated. Kiera began to breathe easier. 

They arrived at the Sadler farm to find the festivities already in full swing, which Alec assured her was preferable.  The long driveway was packed with cars, mostly battered pickup trucks and mud-scarred jeeps; the little blue house blazed with light, and laughter and music drifted on the breeze from the field beyond.  Alec slid his truck into the place of honour at the front of the house, and they both disembarked. 

“Everyone’s out back,” Alec said.  “The main course should be almost ready by now, so there shouldn’t be too much standing around.  We should say hi to my mom, and then we can pretty much do what we want.” 

Kiera opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of the front door opening cut her off.  An older man stepped out, bald but with honest, clear features.  He was wearing a simple plaid shirt under a bulky jacket like Alec’s - his stepfather, perhaps? - and he frowned when he saw them.  

“Alec?” the man called.  Kitchen sounds and chatter drifted out from the house behind him, but he made no move to close the door.  “Your mother could use your help.”  Definitely the stepfather, then. 

“I told her I would be late,” Alec protested.  Kiera didn’t miss the way he stepped forward, placing himself between her and the older man. 

His stepfather ignored this, instead letting the door close and plodding down the stairs to meet them.  “Is this the friend your mother told me about?” 

“Ye-es,” Alec confirmed with clear suspicion.  “We were about to head around back, actually, so—” 

“Roland Randall,” the older man interrupted, closing the distance and stepping around his stepson to hold out a hand to Kiera. 

Well.  Two could play at that game. 

“Kiera Cameron,” Kiera said, and let her firm grip speak for her; she would always be a soldier.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Randall.” 

“Likewise, Kiera,” Randall said.  “Can I call you Kiera?” 

“Certainly,” Kiera said, and noted how he did not extend the same courtesy. 

“Great,” Alec said, from where he was anxiously hovering on the sidelines.  “Now that introductions are over—” 

“Alec, go help your mother in the kitchen,” Randall interrupted, once again steamrolling his stepson.  “I’ll show Kiera around.” 

Alec turned wide eyes to Kiera and she knew he would stay if she asked him to.  Instead she smiled and said, “It’s all right, Alec.  I’ll meet you later.” 

“If you’re sure,” Alec said, sounding anything but.  He gave his stepfather one last wary look, and then trotted up the stairs and into the house.  Light and music spilled out for a moment as the door opened, but was cut off in the next.  

“So Kiera, I hear you work with the police?” 

Wary of attempts to control the conversation, Kiera deftly evaded the hand Randall tried to place on her elbow and fell into step beside him, keeping a careful distance.  She noted the vagueness of his question, how carefully he had avoided calling her a cop, and tried to answer with as much truth as she could.  

“I’m a special agent currently working with the VPD,” she said. 

Randall hummed at that.  “Special agent.  So you work for the feds, not the police.  I’d guess there’s a fair amount of travel in your job, eh?” 

“A fair amount,” Kiera agreed cautiously.  “But I expect to be stationed in Vancouver for the foreseeable future.”  

“You expect.  But you don’t know, do you?” 

Kiera suspected she knew where this was going, and while she appreciated that someone was trying to protect Alec, she doubted that _he’d_ appreciate it from this particular someone.  “No one can ever truly know what their future holds,” she said, and it sounded prophetic even to her own ears. 

Randall huffed, unimpressed.  They had reached the corner of the house and here he stopped, pivoting to face her.  “Look— _Agent._ I’m no fan of the feds.  I know how you people work - dropping in to slap down a solution and then popping right back out before you have to deal with any of the consequences.  You feds are no better than a giant corporation.  But my stepson - he still has faith.  He refuses to see the flaws in your system.  For whatever reason, he likes you, more than is good for him.  So I’m here to warn you that you’ll break that naïve boy’s heart if you pick up and leave like nothing here matters.  Hurt him like that and there will be consequences, I can promise you that much.” 

Well.  Kiera could admire the directness, if nothing else. 

“With all due respect,” Kiera said, and oh, how she loved the sneakiness of that phrase, “you underestimate Alec.  His contributions have been invaluable to my investigations, and to the police.  He is a great asset, and my superiors are aware of this.  Even if I were transferred to another case, they would not make me cease contact with him.”  _They’d have to cut him out of my head first_ , she thought. 

Randall regarded her for a long, silent moment, but Kiera knew she was telling _a_ truth even if not _the_ truth and she didn’t flinch.  Finally, Randall nodded. 

“I believe you,” he said.  “I just hope you understand how much you mean to that boy.” 

“He means a lot to me, too,” Kiera said, which came out much softer than she’d intended and marked her first moment of vulnerability in this conversation. 

Randall seemed glad to see it, and lost some of the tenseness in his posture. 

“I’ll be my own judge of that,” he rumbled, but much of the earlier threat was absent.  “Actions are more honest than words.”  A loud cheer went up from the backyard, and Randall stepped aside.  “Sounds like the food’s arrived.  Best go join your boy.” 

Kiera gave him a narrow-eyed look at his phrasing, but did as he suggested and brushed past him.  The backyard was essentially a massive field bordered distantly by dense forest.  A few large tables had been hauled out and covered with plastic tablecloths to give the sense of an open-air dining hall.  Victorian style lanterns adorned each table end, providing a soft, unobtrusive glow that contrasted with the harsher porch lights at the back of the house.  No attempt had been made to provide sufficient seating for the many people of all ages who milled about, but no one seemed to care.  People settled happily on the grass with their full paper plates or simply stood, picking at finger food and chatting with friends. 

A group of young children clustered around an as-yet-unlit fire pit, playing some sort of stacking game with the logs and waving glow-in-the-dark sticks that sliced through the night like tongues of fire.  Though they were of similar age, none of the children reminded her of Sam.  She found she couldn’t imagine him here, in this place.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.  

“Kiera,” someone hissed to her left.  She turned to find Alec standing by the house with two plates, forks and a worried look.  He offered one set to her and she took it, noting that her plate contained a distinct lack of pickles and much less meat than his.  She raised an eyebrow and Alec shrugged. 

“I noticed you taking the pickles out of a sandwich, once,” he explained.  “And you never seem to eat much meat, when you get the choice.” 

Kiera nodded and took a bite of the famous shepherd’s pie.  It was warm and hearty, soaked through with some sort of homemade gravy, and the best thing she’d tasted in recent memory.  “I’m not used to so much meat.  Raising animals for slaughter is grossly inefficient; most protein comes from other sources in the future.  But this is great, Alec.” 

He grinned.  “You’ll have to tell the chef that then.  We ran out of thyme and my mom had to improvise, so she’s been worried that people won’t like it.” 

“No need,” Kiera said, going in for another bite.  “She should keep it this way.” 

“Great.  You need to let her know you’re here, anyway.”  Alec took a step forward and then paused, turning back to face her.  “But, first, uh...what did Roland want?  I’m really sorry about that, by the way, I had no idea he was going to do that, I didn’t think he even knew—” 

“Alec, relax.  It’s fine.  You can’t control your stepfather.  Besides, do you remember who you’re talking to?  I’m a Protector.  I’ve dealt with much worse than Roland Randall.” 

Alec grinned, clearly relieved.  “Of course.  Of course I remember, that was silly, sorry.  But seriously, what did he want?” 

“Just to threaten me with some arcane, unimaginable punishment if I break your heart,” Kiera said, and laughed when Alec flushed bright red.  “He doesn’t like cops.  I think he just wanted to make sure I wasn't exploiting you.” 

“He gave you the shovel talk?” Alec spluttered.  “Really?  That’s so far out of line, I will—” 

“Wait.  ‘Shovel talk’?” 

Alec blinked at her, tirade forgotten, or at least compartmentalized.  “Oh my god.  _Buffy_.  How have we not started _Buffy_ yet?  You are going to love _Buffy._ ”  

Kiera wrinkled her nose, confused.  “What’s a ‘buffy’?” 

Alec groaned and dropped his head into his hands.  “I can’t believe I just heard those words.  I think you broke my brain.” 

“Well now, that _would_ be a tragedy,” Kiera drawled, rolling her eyes.  “Your stepfather did mention something else, about corporations.  Could he be a potential Liber8 sympathizer?” 

“No,” Alec said, frowning.  “No, nothing like that.  I mean, he has his issues sure – why do you think we don’t get along?  But he’s harmless, he and his friends are all talk.” 

That didn’t sound so harmless to Kiera, who had spent her formative years in a police state, but now wasn’t the time to get into it.  “All right.  I’d keep an eye on him, though.” 

“Believe me, I am,” Alec assured her.  “Not like I have a choice.  Oh, there’s my mom, come on.” 

Kiera trailed after him as he took off into the crowd.  She tried to recall how to mingle.  She’d always hated it, would have taken a firefight instead any day, but Greg’s social standing required his wife to be sparkling.  It was just one more skill, and Kiera had never been accused of being a slow learner. 

Still, this was different.  This wasn’t 2077, she wasn’t with her husband, and these weren't the richest and most famous socialites in the city.  Maybe she could be different here too.  Maybe these practical, plain-clothed people would prefer awkward, genuine Kiera to refined, superficial Mrs. Cameron.  Maybe she could be herself.  

Time to see if she was brave enough to try. 

 

* 

 

“—and then the Lancasters - who live a full mile away, by the way - show up at our door to ask if our power’s still on.  Turns out Alec hooked up his system to the main power grid and his stupid experiment knocked out electricity for the whole county!” 

“That was _one_ time,” Alec complained, red-faced.  Kiera sipped her cider and smiled. 

“Yeah, because your mom threatened to take away all your cool toys if it happened again,” Julian said.  “You never even told us what you were up to that was so important.” 

“I _did_ tell you,” Alec grumbled.  “Not my fault if you didn’t understand.” 

Kiera rolled her eyes.  She caught Julian doing the same and they shared a grin.  She didn’t like Alec’s stepbrother - something felt off about him in a way she usually associated with people like Kellogg and she’d learned he shared his stepfather’s political views - but when one was up against Alec Sadler, temporary alliances were sometimes necessary.  

“Hey!  No conspiring!” Alec protested, catching their look, and tossed a wadded napkin at his stepbrother’s head.  It bounced off Julian’s nose - Alec had remarkably good aim with paper objects, Kiera was learning - and he got to his feet in a huff. 

“I can tell when I’m not wanted,” he sneered, brushing himself off as if he was wearing a three-piece suit rather than a scruffy farm jacket.  “There are other people worthier of my time.”  He stalked off, leaving Kiera and Alec staring after him in silence.  The nearby bonfire was dying out, but it still managed a few confused pops. 

“I think you made him mad,” Kiera observed. 

“It’s hard to tell with Julian,” Alec replied,  “but I’m pretty sure he was faking.”  He abruptly gave up trying to sit upright and fell back, landing spread-eagled on the grass and going silent. 

Kiera turned back to the fire and sipped her cider, savouring the spicy warmth.  The night was getting chilly, but spring had finally come out in force, and her sweater kept her warm enough at the fireside.  Voices still burbled from beyond the circle of firelight, though quieter now and sometimes overpowered entirely by cricket-song.  The sparklers and glow-sticks had disappeared as many of the children succumbed to sleep, but some still wandered, their painted faces flashing eerily bright in the lamplight.  

“Hey,” Alec said.  “I have something for you.”  

Kiera watched as he sat up and rustled through his pockets, coming up with a surprisingly intact origami something.  She took it from his proffered hand and held it up to the firelight.  It appeared to be a bird of some sort, with wide, outstretched wings, a long neck, and an even longer tail.  The paper was thick and creamy, with whorls so distinct she could trace the edges with her fingers, a never-ending heart line that stretched from wingtip to wingtip.  

“It’s a crane,” Alec said.  “If you hold its chest and pull the tail, it flaps.”  Kiera tried it and smiled as the little paper bird fluttered its wings.  There was something special about a creation that could mimic life without hidden circuits. 

“They’re supposed to represent peace, luck, and happiness,” Alec continued.  “And...if you get a thousand, the legend goes you’ll be granted one wish.  I—I thought this could be your first one.” 

“Oh, Alec,” Kiera breathed.  She looked at the tiny paper bird in her hands, silhouetted by the firelight, and thought of the things it represented on its own (peace, luck, happiness), and what it could represent with nine-hundred and ninety-nine of its sisters (her old life).  She thought about Kellogg’s grandmother and disconnected timelines and alternate universes.  She thought about going home versus finding home, about wishes versus reality, about growing up with the memory of a mother who loved you versus not growing up at all.  She thought about choices, and about fate. 

And she decided that fate, too, is a choice. 

 _We make our own luck._

“Thank you,” Kiera whispered, leaning to the side so she could rest her head on Alec’s shoulder, the creamy crane cradled in her hands.  “But this one will do.”  Kiera smiled when Alec twisted to look at her in surprise.  “I’m already home.” 

Alec didn't move, didn’t even blink for a long moment, but Kiera could feel his heart stutter in his chest.  She was about to lean away, ask if something was wrong, when a strange, vaguely familiar look flickered across his face, there and gone too fast to identify because now he was leaning forward and— 

Alec kissed her.  

And Kiera—couldn’t.  She couldn’t.  She drew back and lurched to her feet, barely registering the horrified look on her friend’s face.  He called her name but she kept walking, dialing a cab as she went.  Her mind was dull with shock but she knew she didn’t want to wait, so she told the cab driver to keep an eye on the side of the road, and struck off into the dark. 

She didn’t know how long or how far she walked in the pitch-black country night before the cab pulled up beside her, but she didn’t mind.  Her thoughts didn’t start spinning until she came to a rest at her apartment, but by then Kiera was ready.  She took two sleeping pills, changed her phone’s answering message to fend off Carlos if he tried to contact her, and let her subconscious deal with it all. 

Enough was enough for one day. 

 

* 

 

Kiera’s dreams that night were a mess.  She woke with disjointed fragments of kaleidoscopic sensations rattling around in her brain and only after a half-hour of consciousness and a shower was she able to say with total certainty that the kiss had not, in fact, been a dream.  This was unfortunate, but judging from what she remembered from her dreams, probably for the best.  

She still wasn’t sure what to do about the whole situation, but she felt more resigned than anything else.  If she were honest, she’d seen this coming for a while and she hadn’t done much to stop it.  Sure, she’d made a couple mild, token attempts at discouragement in the early days, but as she and Alec had grown closer and she’d started to think of her friend more as family, she’d stopped protesting.  Her excuses were looking pretty flimsy now, so the only thing left to examine was motivation. 

Kiera’s 2077 may have been more or less a police state, but it was in many ways a more open, liberal world than the half-century before it.  She liked to think it was streamlined; people had learned to argue about the important things and let everything else go.  Same-sex marriage was common and unremarkable, legal and equal across the developed world; women and racial minorities were afforded equal rights and opportunities; gender and sexuality were understood to be changeable spectrums rather than dichotomies.  It was a more complicated view of human nature but, Kiera thought, a more mature one. 

In 2077, the age difference between her and Alec would have been unremarkable, especially given his intelligence.  When most anything between consenting adults was fair game, an age difference of barely a decade was nothing.  And in truth, Kiera didn’t think of Alec as a child.  He was too smart, too mature for his age to be anything but an adult.  He was perhaps a little naive, a little idealistic, but no more so than his stepfather for judging all corporations as evil, soul-sucking monsters.  Age was not an automatic cure for character flaws or immaturity, though it often helped, when help was needed.  

First and foremost, Alec was her friend: her confidante, her partner, her equal in many ways.  He was the person she trusted above all others, and she suspected the same was true for him.  And they...clicked.  They just _liked_ each other, and Kiera hadn't had such careless fun with someone since...well, since she was younger than Alec.  

Alec would find that sad, she thought.  Or maybe he would understand. 

Could this be something she wanted?  Could that be why she had seen it coming a mile away and let it happen anyway?  She still loved Greg, of course she did, but they’d had their problems even so.  Looking back across such a great distance magnified those problems and uncovered new ones.  He had cheated on her at least once without telling her, that she knew about; by mutual agreement his career had come first, so she had been the one to change to suit his lifestyle.  Her quest to get back to her old life had always been about Sam, not Greg.  She’d sensed Greg was not essential to her life; Sam was. 

Her eyes pricked at the thought of her son, but she smiled through it and tried to imagine what he might be doing today, sixty-five years in the future.  How he might be living, without her and because of her, bouncing back resiliently like she knew he could, and succeeding regardless.  Because that was a sort of immature selfishness too, she was realizing: to think yourself so important to another person’s life that they could not survive without you.  If she’d done her job right (and she knew she had), Sam would be all right.  He would survive losing her. 

Her phone beeped from her bedside table.  Three messages: two from Alec, which she ignored, and a third from Carlos letting her know they’d located Fallows and were bringing him, and that he hoped she felt better soon.  She felt a little guilty about the lie but she needed the time off and Carlos hardly needed her help to extract a confession from a scared kid.  She’d have to deal with Alec’s messages eventually, but not right now.  All her introspection had got her was a definite _maybe_ , and Kiera had always preferred actions over words.

Right now, she had a yacht to terrorize. 

 

* 

 

“Kiera!  What a... _lovely_ surprise!” 

Kiera hadn’t been trying to be stealthy, but perhaps Kellogg hadn’t had his coffee yet because his stumble for an adjective showed he’d been startled.  He tried to make up for it with sheer sincerity and a gleaming smile, and Kiera’s lips twitched.  Kellogg was pretty much the most untrustworthy human being she had ever met, but she had to give him points for pure entertainment value.  

Kellogg stepped onto the deck proper and threw open his arms, still smiling wide.  “What can my humble self do for such an esteemed guest on such a fine morning?  Can I get you anything?  Coffee?  Tea?  A trip to the Caribbean?” 

“I’m afraid I’m not up to date on my vaccines,” Kiera said and let him take that how he would.  The tiny frown that marred his smiling face showed he was aware he’d just been insulted but wasn’t quite sure how.  Kiera wasn’t completely sure herself, which she’d found was often the trick to dealing with Kellogg.  “We need to talk about my friend.” 

“Ah, yes, your _friend_ ,” Kellogg said.  “Your very young, very mysterious friend about whom I know absolutely nothing.” 

Kiera carefully kept her face impassive.  This was proof he did at least suspect Alec’s identity.  Even if he didn’t know for sure, it was only a matter of time.  Fortunately, Kellogg wasn’t that hard to figure out.  “I have a proposal for you.” 

“Oh?”  Kellogg leaned back against the railing, the picture of careless wealth.  “I await with baited breath.” 

“As I’m sure you suspected, that ‘kid’ is Alec Sadler,” Kiera said and the exaggerated shock that consumed Kellogg’s face only confirmed her suspicions.  “The single most powerful, wealthy person in 2077 and thus the most hated enemy of Liber8.  Now, I could threaten you with bodily harm or temporal paradoxes or even bankruptcy, if I was feeling ambitious.  But I don’t think any of that is necessary.  I think you’re too smart for that.  I think you don’t _want_ to turn Alec Sadler in to Liber8.” 

“And why is that?” Kellogg grinned, clearly amused. 

Kiera smiled back, but made sure hers had teeth. 

“You like money, Kellogg.  Money, and comfort, and all the pleasures wealth can buy.  I get that.  And I think you realize what an opportunity a young genius - _this_ young genius - could be for someone who loves to be rich.  But here’s the problem.  Alec knows who you are.  He knows what you want, he _doesn’t_ trust you, and it seems to me that you didn’t make a very good first impression.  Opportunities aside, I don’t think that’s the kind of relationship you want to have with the most powerful person in the world.” 

Kellogg was silent now, which Kiera felt was a clearer sign that she had his attention than all the engaging dialogue in the world. 

“I’m offering to help you out,” she continued.  “I will introduce you -- properly, this time.  I may even put in a good word for you.  I will _get you in_ on the ground floor of the most successful company in the world.  In return, you will tell no one about Alec - and I’m sure I don't have to explain how his anonymity is in your best interests as well.  You will _never_ approach Alec when I am not present, unless I give you express permission.  And you will respect Alec’s proprietary right to everything he creates, and will not attempt to manipulate him into making or selling work he is not comfortable with.” 

Kellogg was smiling again.  “Do we need this in writing?” 

Kiera raised her eyebrows.  “ _Do_ we?” 

“Such mistrust,” he complained.  “Some people would find those terms unfairly restrictive - suffocating, even.” 

“ _Some_ people don’t appreciate the value of an investment worth millions.” 

“Too true,” Kellogg grinned.  “There’s hope for you yet, Protector.  Well played!” 

Kiera turned away to hide her answering smile, tiny and reluctant though it was.  “I’ll call you when I have the meeting set up.  I’d better not see you before then!” 

“Fear not, dear lady, I know when a strategic retreat is in order.  Just promise me one thing?” 

Against her better judgement, Kiera paused and turned back.  “What.” 

Kellogg grinned the grinniest grin of them all.  “Promise me your dear friend won’t turn on me when you inevitably succumb to my irresistible charms?” 

Kiera laughed at that and gave him her back, heading for the dock.  “I can promise you I won’t succumb in the first place,” she called over her shoulder.  “Will that do?” 

Kellogg said something back, but Kiera was off the yacht by that point and couldn’t make it out, which she thought was probably for the best. 

Instead of heading straight back to land she took a detour, meandering slowly down an empty pier until there was nothing but water stretching out in front of her.  In the distance she could make out a few sailboats and yachts like Kellogg's enjoying a dawn voyage, but the water closer to her was calm and undisturbed.  She closed her eyes and breathed in the misty sunrise. 

 _Time’s up.  Choose._

“Alec?” she called very softly, and a dark corner of her heart hoped he wouldn’t answer.  “Are you there?” 

Some strange sounds echoed over the com, including a few worrying crashes.  “Kiera?” came Alec’s eventual, breathless voice.  “Did you say something?” 

“Did you break something?” she asked, because she wasn’t totally incapable of procrastinating and some of those noises had sounded truly nasty. 

“Ah, no.  Well, yes, but nothing important, don’t worry about it.  Listen, about last night, I am so—” 

“Stop,” Kiera interrupted.  Alec obediently fell silent, though Kiera could practically feel his panicky heartbeat -- or was that her own?  “We should do this in person.  There’s a park about a mile east of me.  Meet me there?” 

“S-sure, yeah.  Now?” 

“If that’s okay with you.” 

“Of—of course, yeah.  I’ll be there soon.” 

“See you,” Kiera said, and then shut off her CMR’s communications completely.  She had less than an hour to gather her thoughts and she meant to make the most of it. 

 

* 

 

When she was just a child, Kiera had witnessed a vicious fight between her parents.  By adult standards the fight was tame, with no physical violence and no really low insults, but voices were raised enough to be heard through the entire house.  To a young girl who was unused to anything but mild disagreements in her close-knit family, it was shocking.  For what felt like forever she huddled in her room, her one-eyed teddy bear clutched to her chest, and tried to block out the noise even as she listened desperately for every word.  

She no longer remembered what the fight had been about, but she did remember the aftermath.  Her mother had come to her after the dust had settled.  They’d settled together on Kiera’s tiny, daisy-patterned bed, and her mother had asked her to promise her two things. 

One: that she never allow herself to be completely dependent on another person.  Her mother, herself a successful educator and doctor, was in a good place to judge the advantages of this.  Dependency, she said, was poison to a relationship.  If two people couldn't scream at each other occasionally and get out everything that was bothering them, the hurts and annoyances would fester and grow.  The occasional fight was healthy, she said, like lancing a wound, and even at six Kiera understood what she meant. 

Two: that she never prioritize love or passion over friendship.  Being friends, her mother explained, meant that she and Kiera’s father could disagree and still love each other.  Friends knew how to fight and how to apologize, and friendship would outlast everything else.  That was why, she assured her daughter, that no matter how much she and Kiera’s father disagreed at times, they would always find a compromise and they would always stay together.  They were each other’s best friend. 

Little Kiera had promised immediately through teary eyes and hugged her mother, and had never cried again when her parents fought. 

Big Kiera had thought she was honouring both those promises in her marriage to Greg; now she wasn’t so sure.  But perhaps it wasn’t too late to try again. 

 

* 

 

Feeding the birds, Kiera was realizing, became a lot less idyllic once the seagulls got involved. 

The sun was up properly now, but the little park Kiera had chosen was still relatively deserted.  The occasional dog walker or jogger sped by but whereas before Kiera’s presence had been unremarkable, they now tossed dirty looks towards the brunette curled up on a pale pink bench at the eye of a maelstrom of seagulls.  The two slices of rye she’d picked up from a nearby bakery now seemed totally inadequate and every second more birds dropped from the sky like living guano. 

Still, Kiera wasn’t able to truly resent their noise and rudeness.  Wildlife was still too new and precious to her, even city pests like seagulls.  She watched an interaction on the sidelines as a fluffy brown-specked bird seemed to find something in the grass and was immediately mobbed by its sleeker neighbours, and couldn’t imagine ever taking this for granted. 

A sudden explosion of feathers and squawking erupted to her left, causing her entire makeshift flock to rise up into the air in protest.  Kiera looked over to see Alec cautiously picking his way over to his bench, clad in a rare dress shirt thrown over his caffeine molecule tee, a white paper cup clutched in each hand.  Judging from the bags under his eyes and his general air of caffeine-fueled anxiety, he hadn’t slept much. 

“You weren’t hard to find,” he greeted.  “Didn’t they teach you not to feed the seagulls in 2077?”  He offered her one of the cups. 

Kiera accepted with murmured thanks and blew the steam away until she could see the little foam leaf. 

“Wildlife is... _was_ rare,” Kiera said, and watched as her friend sat down as far away from her as was possible without falling off the edge of the bench.  As soon as he was settled, the bravest seagulls began to return.  “And it wasn’t seagulls at first!  Just little sparrows and...doves?  The seagulls chased them all away.” 

“Which is why we don’t feed the seagulls,” he concluded.  “Look, people keep glaring at us.  They hate us.  You’ve made people hate us.” 

Kiera rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she tossed the last morsel of bread to the feathery horde.  “But we’ve made so many new friends!” 

“Yeah, right.  Parasites, more like.  They’ll abandon you once they have what they want.” 

Somehow, Kiera didn’t think they were talking about seagulls anymore. 

Fortunately, Alec seemed equally reluctant to pursue that train of thought, whatever it was.  “Sorry,” he babbled,” I didn’t mean—I mean—shit, I _am_ sorry, I—” 

“Alec, stop, please.  You have nothing to apologize for.” 

Alec didn’t seem to agree with that, but he did stop talking.  Kiera cast about for something to lighten the mood and spotted a flash of red deeper in the park.  A girl was curled up at the base of a large oak with a book, her unnaturally red hair shining in the dappled sunlight, and she was staring straight at Alec. 

“Seems you have an admirer,” Kiera commented without thinking, and winced when her mind caught up with her mouth a moment later.  Alec followed her gaze and the flame-haired girl suddenly became engrossed in her book. 

“That would be a first,” Alec said.  “Besides, she probably thinks I’m taken,” he added with a tiny shrug and an even tinier sideways glance her way.  He looked so dejected and small at that moment that Kiera’s heart cracked neatly in two. 

“Maybe you are.” 

Alec turned wide, startled eyes on her, and Kiera had to look away.  She couldn’t face what she might see there and still say what she needed to say.  A few seagulls squawked and flew away as they realized she had nothing left to give. 

“What does that mean?” Alec breathed. 

“It means...”  Kiera exhaled sharply and rubbed at her eyes.  “It means don’t be sorry.  It means I’ve only just accepted that I’m here to stay, and I don't know what I’m doing with my life yet.  It means I can’t make any promises.”  She took a deep breath and clutched her cup tightly to steady her shaking hands, because this was the really hard part.  With the heat of her latte burning her palms and anchoring her, she looked up into Alec’s eyes and let the last of her walls fall.  “It doesn’t mean no.” 

Alec didn’t seem to be breathing and his eyes were still very wide.  Kiera’s eyes flicked down to follow his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.  Very, very slowly, as if he was afraid any sudden movements would spook her, he reached out.  Kiera didn’t move as his hand touched her neck and threaded through her hair.  She kept her eyes steady on his.  His skin felt damp and hot from the coffee but it was a comfortable contrast to the cool morning air, and his shirt smelled of soap and hay.  When his lips touched hers she closed her eyes, but didn’t back down, didn’t run away, didn’t even want to. 

The kiss was soft and gentle and completely undemanding.  Kiera suddenly realized it might be his first, not counting the night before.  At the thought she pushed forward, testing, and became more convinced when he pushed back only enough to match her but no farther.  

Kiera grinned.  This was going to be fun.  

Teasingly, she slipped her tongue out to trace his lips and felt him draw back slightly in surprise.  She pushed forward, more demanding now, but when his mouth opened to her and their tongues touched they both gasped.  Heat jolted through her body and she almost dropped her latte from the shock of it.  He tasted of coffee and honey and something unique to her best friend, and she never wanted to let go. 

They parted breathlessly after endless minutes, but Kiera wasn't ready to open her eyes just yet.  She leaned forward and Alec met her, and for a long moment they just breathed together, foreheads touching.  She could still hear the seagulls. 

“Maybe, huh?” Alec whispered, and Kiera smiled. 

“ _Definitely_ maybe.”  She pulled back and finally opened her eyes.  Alec had a huge, ridiculous, smug grin on his face, but he looked happier than Kiera had ever seen him and she couldn’t help but smile her own ridiculous smile back. 

Then she punched him in the arm, because, well.  If anyone had a right to be smug, it was her. 

“Ow!” Alec yelped.  Kiera rolled her eyes - she hadn’t hit him _hard_ \- and then curled close to rest her head on his shoulder.  He gave her a wounded look but made no move to stop her.  Not even a full second had passed before Kiera felt his arm winding around her.   

The silence felt comfortable and natural.  Kiera marvelled at the ease of it all, as they sat on a park bench on a beautiful spring morning and sipped their coffees.  Her seagull flock was down to five dedicated birds, but they seemed more interested in squabbling amongst themselves than waiting on her.  The flame-haired girl was gone; in her place two squirrels chased each other around the old oak, chittering madly.  Kiera wondered what would happen if the second squirrel caught up. 

“Kiera, I’ve been thinking,” Alec said.  Kiera twisted to look up at him, but didn’t interrupt.  “I was still alive when you left 2077, right?” 

Kiera nodded, but still didn't speak.  Alec’s arm tightened around her. 

“Then, I was thinking...no matter what happens in the meantime - with us, or with Liber8, or whatever - if my future is anything like what you remember, I promise I’ll protect Sam.  I’ll make sure he wants for nothing.  I’ll tell him everything, and I’ll make sure he understands that his mother loved him more than he could ever know, and that none of this was his fault.” 

Kiera was speechless.  Never in a million years had she expected this.  It had never even occurred to her to ask.  She didn’t know if it all worked that way, if Sam would even exist in this timeline at all, but if he did... if somewhere out there, sixty-five years from now, her son was crying at the sudden, unexplainable disappearance of his mother, then knowing someone would be there to explain it was a weight off her shoulders that she didn’t think she could express. 

But Alec deserved an answer, so she said the only thing that came to mind. 

“Don't spoil him,” she said, and it came out shaky but true.  “I worked too hard to teach him manners for you to come along and spoil him.” 

Alec laughed.  “Fine, I won’t spoil him,” he promised, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

Kiera struggled to keep her eyes dry.  She felt like she’d cried more since her timejump than in the nearly three decades previous, and she’d had enough.  She was _happy_ , and there was nothing to cry about. 

“Alec,” she whispered when she found her voice, because although he couldn't understand how much that promise meant to her and she couldn’t explain it, there was one thing she could say.  “I think I might love you.” 

Alec tensed at her side and she could feel his heart stumble and race.  Kiera held herself still.  He set his coffee down and used his free hand to reach up and push her hair away from her face, fingertips brushing against her cheek.  His hand shook, but she looked up to find him smiling. 

“I think I might love you too,” he whispered.  “So I guess that makes us even.” 

She kissed him this time, reaching up to close the small distance for a simple, gentle press of lips that was as much a promise as anything she could say.  When she drew back and opened her eyes, Alec was smiling brighter than a thousand wishes, and Kiera knew she had found her way home. 

 

*

  

**_Epilogue_ **

**_(2077)_ **

****

*

****

_On days like today, Kiera can pretend her life is perfect.  It is a beautiful Friday afternoon, the birds are chasing each other through the trees with an energy and joy that lifts her heart, and after a shortened RPS shift she feels loose-limbed and spry.  Stretching ahead of her is a long weekend; three whole days that, random emergencies permitting, she will be able to spend with her family.  She loves her work and she wouldn't give it up for the world, but it is stressful and she misses her son.  She could use a few days to unwind._

_She is early to pick up Sam, but he is there waiting for her just the same.  His eyes are the same colour as the shining, endless sky as he runs to hug her and tell her about his day.  She listens to tales of playground drama and macaroni sculptures and holds his small hand tightly in her own as they leave to find Dad._

_Greg's building is not the largest or the tallest of the glass behemoths that ring the center of the business district, but it is the most elegant and, Kiera thinks, the most artistic.  Much of it is underground, she knows, which allows the visible floors to favour aesthetics and safety over space.  It is pearl-white where other buildings are metallic or grey, and small trees and flowers peek through the windows where other buildings have only sterile offices and boardrooms.  Greg complains that it feels like working outside and is happiest down in his basement, but Kiera thinks the SadTech Head Office is the model upon which all other buildings should be built._

_Sam spots Greg first, but Kiera holds him back when he tries to run ahead.  Her husband is on the other side of the courtyard, talking to an older man whom Kiera doesn't recognize.  Technically his shift is over and he should be free of work obligations, but Kiera understands the importance of networking.  She will not be the reason Greg loses an important connection._

_To her surprise, when Greg notices them waiting he waves them over.  Bemused and a little nervous, Kiera gives Sam a push and watches as he runs over to his father.  Greg swings him into his arms and holds him up like a trophy for the other man to inspect.  Sam, of course, smiles wide at the attention, and in Kiera's eyes his golden hair shines brighter than any trophy.  As Kiera approaches, he points to the great white building and shakes the older man's hand._

_Kiera's step falters infinitesimally.  So this is Alec Sadler._

_She keeps her eyes on Sam as she closes in, keeps her smile fond and proud, and it is not difficult.  She hears Greg introduce her, but she does not lift her eyes from Sam until Sadler himself speaks her name._

_“Kiera,” he says, and there is something strange in his voice, something strangled.  She is curious, now, so she summons her best meeting-the-general smile and meets his eyes.  And she's right; there's something strange about Alec Sadler, some shifting shadow in his eyes._

_“It's...long overdue,” Sadler continues, and extends a hand.  He seems a little shaky - maybe age, maybe something else - but her own grip is firm; she will always be a soldier.  Something sparks in his eyes when their hands touch, something that looks far too much like love, and it should be creepy but instead she just feels incredibly, inexplicably sad._

_“Kiera, this is my boss, Alec Sadler,” Greg adds, and she can tell from his tone that he feels this conversation is going a little sideways as well, but she doesn't have time for him right now._

_“When did your wife die?” she asks, and is just as surprised by the question as her husband appears.  Greg even shuffles away from her a little, as if trying to distance himself and Sam from the inevitable fallout of her tragic social skills._

_Sadler, for his part, seems the least affected - if anything, he now looks amused.  “Five years ago,” he says.  “We were married for almost sixty years.”_

_“Oh,” Kiera breathes, mostly because she can't believe she guessed right, but also because sixty years is a very long time and she can already tell she won't be that lucky.  “I'm so sorry.”_

_“It's all right,” Sadler says.  “I know she's not really gone.  I'll see her again, one day.”  His smile brightens suddenly, his eyes glittering as if offering to let her in on a joke, and he claps his hands.  “Well!  I've taken up enough of your time.  You and your husband should enjoy this time together, while it lasts.”_

_“Thank you, sir, we will,” Greg answers for both of them, and Kiera nearly jumps, so totally had she forgotten his presence.  Sadler smiles at them both, and at little Sam, and then wanders back to his building to do whatever it is that the most powerful man in the world does when he's not making strange small talk with employees' families._

_“What was that, Kiera?” Greg starts in as soon as Sadler is out of earshot.  “How did you know that about his wife?  I didn't think you followed stuff like that.”_

_“I don't,” she agrees.  “I don't know how I knew.  He just seemed...so sad, you know?”_

_Greg just shakes his head.  “If you say so.  He seemed cheerful to me.”_

_Kiera tries not to read too much into that.  “Maybe,” she allows, and lets the subject drop.  Sam is babbling about getting to meet Alec Sadler and what he's going to tell all his friends, and she tries to focus on that.  She doubts she'll be seeing Sadler again if she reminds him of his dead wife as much as she seems to, so she might as well put the strange encounter out of her mind as best she can.  She has three whole days to spend with her family and friends and she means to make them count._

_After all, as Sadler said, these days won't last forever._

 


End file.
